


Kidlet stories: Davey&Nando

by dollylux



Series: Born to Run [8]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1777549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Davey and Nando watch the clouds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kidlet stories: Davey&Nando

"A hippo shopping for radiators."

"A plastic bag dressed as a woman."

"A..." David snorts with laughter, his stomach shaking with it before he can even get the sentence out. "A what?"

Nando grins up at the sky, his head bouncing on Davey's stomach as he laughs and he squints to try and see the cloud better, his mind racing with something even funnier because he loves Davey's laugh that much. 

"No, I's wrong. It looks more like a... a zucchini fuckin' a stork."

David loses it then, snickering so hard he has to turn and lay on his side and Nando sits up then, turning to watch David laugh and he's grinning proudly. It wasn't everyday he could make his big brother laugh.

"You've lost your damn mind, chickpea," David declares, pulling Nando back down and they settle once again, Nando's head on David's ever-lengthening torso and they sigh in tandem. A beautiful spring day and no one in the damn world knows where they are. It's about all the heaven Nando knows. They fall quiet as the breeze picks up and Nando knows they're both savoring it, both closing their eyes 'til it's gone and they're both smiling when they look back at the sky though neither of them realizes it. David cards his fingers through the tangle of Nando's hair, trying his best to smooth it out. Nando's hair doesn't get brushed unless his Momma does it and she'd been sick the last few days. David reminds himself to find her brush when they get home.

"You know what, Davey?"

"Nn?"

"I feel like those clouds right there." Nando doesn't move, doesn't motion up at any of the clouds, let alone any particular one and so David just stares for a long moment, trying to figure it out but he finally shakes his head gently.

"Which one, Nando?"

"Those'uns." He lifts a skinny arm then, short sleeve falling back to reveal tanned freckled skin and the ghosting though of muscle definition but he's too young for that, way too young for that. David follows his thin finger up and he squints into the brightness until he realizes that Nando isn't pointing at a real cloud at all but the disruptions left by planes, by jets, by showoffs of the airborne type that leave long, vulgar cloud-colored stripes through natural formations, man making his mark on a spring day.

"The plane marks?"

"Yeh. Guess so."

Nando is getting that tone, that soft, moody voice that means he doesn't think he's good enough for much of anything, that he is in on a secret that the rest of the world just hasn't quite figured out yet. David's fingers tender over Nando's scalp and he makes his voice even softer than Nando's.

"Why's that?"

"Don't belong up there, do they? They're just a.. a..." Nando flounders over words and David knows he means to use a word like "disruption" but he refuses to supply it because of its vast untruth. So Nando stammers on, cheeks flushed in embarrassment but he's too stubborn to just stop talking. "Like a cut up there in the big blue sky. Somethin' ugly in a perfectly pretty scene. Shouldn't be there in the first place."

David lets that sink in, staring at those unclouds until they grow fuzzy and unfathomable in his eyes like when you say a word too many times until it doesn't sound like a word anymore at all. Nando is upset now, that great self-loathing he keeps deep down in his small body bubbling to the surface like it's always waiting to do and he's in tears, ready to explode, probably needing to. David reaches for him then, dragging him up his body and turning Nando over until he's not looking at the sky anymore, until he's resting his cheek against David's chest and David is holding him tightly, determinedly. He cradles his head and trails his hands over Nando's back and his heart is pounding in anger at the world for letting Nando feel like this ever, for the injustice of it. 

"You ain't a damn plane cloud, Nando. You ain't even a real cloud. Clouds ain't even really there. They're just air that you could run your hand straight through if you could reach 'em. Clouds don't matter at all. You ain't no goddamn cloud. You're the sun, Nando. You're bright and you make the whole world bright with you and you're more there than anything else in the whole universe."

Nando is crying softly and David can feel the tears soaking into the cotton of his shirt and dampening his sun-warmed skin through it. He sniffles and it's stuffy and watery and his voice is still self-deprecating but a little more hopefully, a little bit lighter but it's dark humor, Nando's is always a dark humor. 

"There's more than one sun in the universe, Davey."

David blushes for the correction and he hugs Nando tighter, kissing the top of his head for his cleverness. 

"Yeah, well. You're the only one in mine, chickpea."


End file.
